


Don't Eat the Scones in Outer Space

by stfustucky (iwillpaintasongforlou)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bottom Peter Parker, Choking, Face Slapping, Hair-pulling, M/M, Nipple Torture, Not A Happy Ending, Peter is 18, Pinching, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Spanking, Starker Bingo 2019, Top Tony Stark, but he doessssss, but peter is a pain slut, peter accidentally eats a poison scone, tagged as dubcon because consent is always fucky with sex pollen, there are some fairy aliens involved, there's gonna be a soft(er) sequel tho, this is.... not as brutal as you think it's going to be, tony stark doesn't wanna fuck peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 02:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20036146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/stfustucky
Summary: Peter comes into contact with sex pollen on an Avengers mission and Tony is the one who winds up helping him through it. Which is complicated, since Tony is going to enjoy this a lot more than he should. Bonus points for Tony discovering that the sweet, innocent, bright-eyed boy he's trying so hard to protect from the trauma of this situation? Yeah, turns out he's a pain slut. Whoops.Starker Bingo 2019: Brutal fuck





	Don't Eat the Scones in Outer Space

**Author's Note:**

> What happens when you give the Queen of Soft a prompt like "brutal fuck"? Hint: you get rough sex with a lot of angst, and it turns out to be more brutal for the author than anything else. JOKE'S ON... nah, the joke's still on me.
> 
> Shoutout to lilsoshie for reading this over for me and helping me pick an ending! You owe all post-orgasmic whump to her direction. She is a blessing, I do not deserve, etc etc ILY SOSHIE THANKS BABE
> 
> Enjoy!

Nat’s comment about faeries really should have tipped Tony off. It wasn't like it would be the weirdest thing the team had ever encountered, after all. Apparently most of human mythology was just misguided interpretations of alien encounters --ahem, _ Thor-- _ so it wasn't that far-fetched to think that maybe these travelers from the next galaxy over had something to do with earthen tales of the Fey, with their pointed ears and gossamer wings and razor sharp teeth.

If Tony had taken it a little more seriously when she made the comparison, maybe they would have thought to be a little less trusting of these seemingly civilized people. The Fey were known for being beautiful and deadly, quick to turn their favor and fond of causing trouble for trouble’s sake. Maybe he would have been a little more suspicious of the all-too-simple peace treaty they offered.

And he _ definitely _ would have warned Peter away from the tempting tray of scones they were offered as they boarded the foreign ship.

They had just finished ironing out the details of the accords, which basically involved the aliens fucking off and not bothering Earth again in return for The Avengers not siccing Quill and his motley crew on their little planet, when Tony noticed the look on Peter's face. He looked dazed, flushed, with what remained of a scone clutched loosely in one hand. “Peter?” Tony asked, concerned. “Are you all right?”

“I don't feel so good, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled, eyes drifting shut. “I think maybe I have a fever? I don't feel-- I think something is wrong.”

Nat looked from Peter to the pastry in his hand, then rounded on the extraterrestrials. “What was in that? What did you give him?”

And then the details started to click into place, what Nat had muttered about faeries and what Tony remembered from the bits of lore he'd heard growing up. He could recall heroes venturing into the homes of the Fey and not daring to eat or drink a thing no matter how hungry or tempted. There was always one who gave in, and they usually found themselves enslaved or cursed or worse--

“Did you poison him?” Tony asked the closest creature, and his voice sounded like ice.

The leader, a lean, graceful woman with blue-gray eyes and hair to match, flickered her wings as she laughed. “Poison him? Not at all, we would never harm a guest. He simply ate a creation made from a plant on our home planet known as Desire's Bloom, or the Flower of Longing.”

“What does it do?” Bucky chimed in, eyeing Peter sharply. “Because the kids sure doesn't look like he’s feeling his best.”

“It's an aphrodisiac, the most powerful one in this or any galaxy our people have explored,” the woman calmly explained. “It does nothing but amplify his own wants. Simply take him to his lover within the hour and make sure he receives ecstasy via penetration and he'll be fine.”

_ “Receive ecstasy? Penetration?” _ Tony spluttered at the same time Steve protested, “He’s eighteen, he’s barely even old enough to have a lover!”

That got only a dismissive hand wave in response. “It's not my fault you bring children to your peace talks. Let his death be a lesson to you in the future.”

The room went silent. Bruce, looking a shade of light green that neatly matched the alien next to him, leaned forward to look the queenlike figure in the eye. “His _ death?” _

“Well of course,” she replied, blinking placidly up at him. “As I said, he has an hour to reach completion with his lover and he'll be fine. If not, his body will burn itself to ashes with desire.”

“Oh, fuck,” Peter said with a dazed shiver, and with those two words he spoke for everyone.

Thor stepped forward now, Mjolnir humming with power in his hands. “We're leaving now, and you have ten minutes to be out of this planet's atmosphere before I crush your skulls beneath my hammer. Set foot in this solar system again and you will meet the same fate.”

Steve was gathering a quaking Peter into his arms, but Clint stood his ground, bow drawn and arrow notched. “We're just gonna let these fuckers get away with poisoning Peter?” he demanded.

“No, Thor’s right,” Sam said grimly, shoving Clint toward the exit that the team was filing out of one by one. “We've got more important things to worry about right now, like getting the kid what he needs to survive.”

No one named aloud what exactly it was that Peter needed, not until they were all safely off the foreign ship and inside their own Quinjet. It wasn't exactly the most secure location to be handling a crisis from, but considering they'd met for their parlay in an open field in upstate New York, it was the only option at hand. Peter’s skin was burning to the touch by the time Steve deposited the boy on one of the small beds built into the side of the ship.

“What the hell are we going to do?” Nat asked, giving a voice to the elephant in the room. “He either has to get fucked or die.”

“Well we're not letting him die,” Tony snapped, “so let's forget about that option. Jarvis, how much time left on the clock?”

“Approximately 53 minutes, Sir.”

“And how long back to the city?”

“Under current conditions, 28 minutes.”

“Okay, we can work with that,” Tony exhaled. “We can get him back to the city, maybe he has a girlfriend or something. What about, uh-- MJ? Peter, you and MJ are a thing, right? We can take you to her--”

“No,” Peter groaned, “we're not-- I don't have anyone. Please, I don't wanna die,” he finished at a whimper.

"Hey, no one is dying, I promise," Tony assured him quickly. "We'll just..."

He looked around at the rest of the team, and it became clear at once that they all were thinking the same thing. Peter needed to have sex with someone, now, and since he didn't have a partner, his choices were somewhat limited. All he had was a team... and they were going to make sure that was enough.

Tony nodded at them, confirming that he understood the determination in each and every gaze. "One of us will take care of you," he told Peter, the words twisting in his gut even as he said them. "Is that okay? I know it isn't ideal, but we can't let you suffer."

Tears welled up in Peter's eyes as he opened them to look at Tony and nod. "I'm sorry, you guys shouldn't have to-- I didn't mean to--"

"Shut it," Tony said as gently as he could. "This isn't your fault. You were drugged. We're going to make sure you make it out of this alive. Do you... who do you want to... Jesus," he swore, unable to get the words out.

But Peter just shook his head. "I can't choose, please, I don't want to make anyone-- fuck, please, I'm burning, Mr. Stark--"

The panic in Peter's voice was going to send Tony to an early grave. "Alright, deep breaths, we'll figure it out amongst ourselves. Alright? Does that work? We'll pick a volunteer, no one is gonna do anything they don't wanna do. Just, uh, give us a second, okay? Hang in there."

He gestured his head towards the door that led from the bunk room into the hallway, and the team reconvened there minus Peter. "Right, so," Tony sighed as the door closed behind them, looking around at all the somber faces. "Who's gonna do the honors?"

No one spoke. As determined as they all were to help their youngest teammate, no one was eager to be the one to touch Peter under circumstances where consent was dubious at best. Nat sighed. "Well, I'm obviously out."

"'Obviously?'" Steve echoed. "Why are you out?"

"Because he's gay, you morons," Nat explained with a roll of her eyes. "I swear, for a bunch of geniuses and trained professionals you sure are slow on the uptake. I'm going to have an awful hard time getting his rocks off when he isn't attracted to my body type in the least."

"I don't think I can either," Bruce said with a wince. "The other guy... I'm not sure that's a risk I should take. I want Peter to make it through this, but I can't put him in more danger while trying to save him."

"I've got Laura to think about," Clint said quietly. "I know that it's not-- it's emergency circumstances and all, but it wouldn't be right."

"I'm too murdery," Bucky stated simply. "Also, it's a no for Steve."

"No, it should be me," Steve sighed, looking somber. "I'm the team leader, taking care of the people under my command is my responsibility. I'll--"

"I_ said _ it's a no for Steve," Bucky repeated with his signature dead-eyed glare. The rest of Steve's protests withered on his tongue. Whatever _ that _was about, no one was going to argue with Bucky about it.

"I volunteer for the task," Thor said with finality, standing up straight. "While I understand the moral complications Midgardians have about situations like these, I am used to sacrificing peace of mind to do what is best for my people. I will pleasure young Peter."

There was a beat of silence before every other member of the team erupted into various versions of _ oh hell, no! _ Thor looked confused until Sam patted him gently on the shoulder and gestured to Thor's sheer bulk. "It's nothing personal, buddy, but look at yourself. You're twice that kid's size. We're looking to save his life, not split him in half. I'm fairly certain Peter isn't ready for all of... _ that." _

"Ah, yes," Thor acquiesced, nodding as if the argument made perfect sense. Which, they'd all seen him naked in the showers. They knew it was a valid point.

Tony scanned the space. "So that leaves... Sam and me," he said with a gulp. "Whaddaya say, Wilson, rock paper scissors? Loser makes Peter see stars."

He wanted Sam to tell him no, to volunteer as Thor and Steve had. He was a noble sort of guy, that kind of thing wouldn't have been completely out of character. And if he did, it would save Tony the risk that he might actually wind up having to be the one to go back in there with Peter.

Which absolutely couldn't happen. It would be a hundred shades of wrong, even more than it would be wrong for any of the others to do the same. For them at least, it would be strictly friendly. Professional, even. Doing what needed to be done in order to protect a member of their team, even if it meant --literally-- getting their hands dirty. It was the sort of gray area where one could squint their eyes and tilt their head and come out of it thinking that it was a kindness rather than a crime.

But Tony...

For Tony it would be something different, because he would be getting exactly what he'd secretly been craving since the moment the kid came onto his radar. Which was ridiculous and he knew it, because Peter was _ only eighteen _ and had been younger than that when Tony had first laid eyes on him. It was wrong and Tony knew it and he'd been keeping those thoughts locked away in a very deep, very dark corner of his mind ever since.

If Tony were the one to go back in there, though, he would never be able to forgive himself. It wouldn't be a mercy or an act of sacrifice. It would be something Tony would enjoy, even as Peter was suffering, and that was unforgivable.

But Sam didn't volunteer, he simply nodded and raised his fist, and a breathless three-count later Tony was looking down at his flattened hand being pinched between Sam's index and middle fingers with a sense of deep and resounding dread.

"Well," Tony said shakily, "guess that's me, then."

It was probably better this way anyways. At least if it was him, he could trust himself to make the experience as safe and gentle and _ ...untraumatic _ as possible given the circumstances. Peter would never have to know that Tony was enjoying himself. And if he ever did find out and decided to hate Tony as much as Tony was going to hate himself, that was probably a good thing in the end. If he refused to speak to Tony after this, it would mean that Tony would never have the opportunity to hurt him again.

He tried not to look around at the team, but he could feel their sympathetic looks on him anyways. Their pity only made him feel worse. They were probably thinking that Tony didn't want to touch Peter, considering the close, almost father-like relationship between the two. After all, most mentors would shy away from the idea of being forced into a sexual encounter with someone they were in a position of influence over. They were probably thinking that Tony was doing a good thing here, doing something that he didn't want to do, when in reality Tony was getting a dream come true.

Yeah, he was never forgiving himself for this one.

Still, if the cost of saving Peter's life was hating himself forever, it was still a price Tony was willing to pay. He sighed and nodded, waving vaguely at the ship's exit. "Maybe you guys should go take a walk. Preserve whatever dignity Peter will have left after all this."

"Of course," Steve said firmly. "Everyone, regroup outside. Let's, uh, leave them to it." When everyone had left except Steve and Tony, the captain reached into a back pocket and presented Tony with two individual sized packets of lube, blushing furiously as he did so. "Thought you might need these."

Tony raised his eyebrows, fairly obvious dots connecting in his mind for the second time that afternoon. "You and Barnes? Really? And I didn't know about it? I must be off my game."

"We're not," Steve hurried to say. "At least, not yet. But I'm hopeful."

"And prepared," Tony couldn't help but smirk.

"Well, they don't call me the man with a plan for nothing."

"Yeah, well, I'm glad you were ready, at least, because I'm not," Tony sighed. "Go on, get out of here. I'll uh, come give you guys a heads up when everything's... finished."

Steve winced and nodded, then made his exit the same way the others had. That left Tony alone with two packets of lube and a rather ominous if nondescript door, behind which lay a very sick Peter Parker who Tony was going to fuck in the name of science and heroism and try very, very hard not to enjoy it.

Just a typical Tuesday, then.

He opened the door to find Peter still on the bunk but looking considerably more a wreck than Tony had left him. He was naked now, shaking from head to toe as if the mild air of the room was unbearably frigid on his overheated skin, and he had two fingertips pushed inside his hole. Tony could tell even from across the room that they were slicked with nothing but spit.

"Hey, Jesus, slow down there, kid," Tony yelped, rushing to Peter's side and easing the fingers from Peter's hole as gently as he could. "You're going to hurt yourself trying to do it like that. I told you I'd take care of it, didn't I? Look, got you some lube and everything. I'm not going to let this hurt you, I promise."

Peter bit his lip, looking up at Tony distantly. "Is it... are you gonna fuck me, Mr. Stark?" he said with a slight slur. "You're the one who volunteered?"

_ Volunteered _ was a very loose term, but Peter didn't need to know that. "We all volunteered, Petey. Any of us would help you if we could. But I was-- it made the most sense for me to do it. You okay with that?"

It was a stupid thing to even ask, because Peter wasn't in a state to give any sort of passable consent, but Tony couldn't help but ask anyways. If Peter said no, Tony couldn't bear to go through with it. He'd go out there and find someone better, someone with more innocent intentions, and let Peter have them instead. He wouldn't do anything Peter didn't want. _ Please, God, let him say no. _

"Yes," Peter answered simply, his head bobbing vigorously. "I trust you, Mr. Stark. I'm glad it's you. I know you won't let anything bad happen to me."

Tony was fairly certain that he was about to be the worst thing ever to happen to Peter, but he hid that truth behind a smile. "Let's get you feeling good so that you can feel better, okay?"

“Okay,” Peter whispered, eyes worried.

“Now, the head wacko said that you had an hour to, uh, orgasm.” Tony grimaced. “Specifically, with a partner. She also mentioned something about penetration, so I don’t think we’re going to get away with just a quick handshake. But it’s up to you how this plays out. If you don’t want… I mean, if you’d rather be the one to, uh…” Tony cursed himself internally. He’d had all manner of dirty talk roll off his tongue in his lifetime, but _ now _ he wanted to get shy. “You can top, if you’d rather,” he forced himself to just say.

Peter's only answer was to spread his thighs for Tony, and Tony put aside every thought except making Peter come undone.

He opened one of the packets of lube and spread it onto his fingers, getting them nice and slick before pressing one into Peter's entrance. He was still tight inside, though his own sloppy attempts at readying himself made it so that Tony could work his finger all the way in with relative ease. He made sure to take his time before adding a second, then carefully scissored them apart to make room for the third. Peter kept wiggling and grunting and insisting he was ready for more, but Tony paid him no mind. He wasn't going to neglect this crucial step and risk doing Peter harm.

"Is this your first time?" Tony found himself asking as he slid his three fingers gently in and out of Peter's hole. He didn't know why he asked. It wasn't an answer that he really wanted to hear.

"Uh, no," Peter answered bashfully. "I've-- a couple of times. I had an ex-boyfriend..."

"Good, that's good," Tony said, even though he hated the idea of someone else being in this kind of position with Peter. "I wouldn't want this to be-- well, anyways, I'm going to go easy on you, so don't worry," he continued in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

Peter gave him a look that seemed dubious. What, did he think Tony was incapable of restraining himself? "I trust you," Peter simply repeated.

Tony backed off for a moment to rid himself of his pants and underwear, and prayed that Peter didn't think too much of the fact that Tony was already hard. "I don't have a condom," he said apologetically. That was the problem with getting your sex supplies from a supersoldier couple. Their impervious dicks meant that safe sex wasn't really a concern. "I'm clean, as far as I know, so you don't have anything to worry about, but... I'm going to have to, uh, go without."

Peter's whole body seemed to convulse in a shiver, and Tony moved back towards him on instinct. "Please, it doesn't matter," Peter gasped, fingernails raking at Tony's skin as he tried to drag him closer. "I just need you, please, don't make me wait anymore."

It wasn't in Tony's power to deny that, so he quickly spread the other packet of lube carefully along his length and lined himself up with Peter's entrance to push inside, slow and steady.

He went as easy as he possibly could, watching Peter for any signs of discomfort along the way. All he found on Peter's face was a mild frown. Still, it was better than tears. "Hang on, I've got you," Tony reassured him, shifting his weight so he could reach for Peter's cock between them.

It was soft, which came as no surprise to Tony. That first stretch could be more pain than pleasure, and while he had certainly _ tried _ to make sure Peter was ready to take him, it still might not be the most comfortable sensation in the world. He tried not to stress too much over the uninterested length in his hand, instead stroking it carefully while Peter adjusted to being filled with Tony's cock. A few moments later Peter tapped at Tony's hip --a clear nonverbal _ move-- _ and Tony started to fuck him carefully as he worked Peter's cock, knowing that once they got going the mix of different stimulations would get him where he needed to go.

Except that it wasn't seeming to work in the way Tony anticipated. By the time he had worked up to a steady pace of thrusts into Peter, the boy was still soft in Tony's hand. It was a sharp contrast to the way Tony felt, all of his nerve endings abuzz with the sensation of being here, inside Peter, just like he'd been fantasizing. Tony steadfastly pushed his own pleasure away to focus on Peter instead. "You alright, kid? Am I... I'm not hurting you, am I?"

To his surprise, the answer drew a dry laugh out of Peter. "That's not the problem at all, Mr. Stark, I promise you," he said with a miserable expression.

"Okay, that's fine," Tony said, trying to shift his hips a little to give Peter a new angle. He just had to find Peter's sweet spot, that was all. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

But even when Tony angled himself in a way that he knew meant his cock was dragging over Peter's prostate, still there was no reaction. Unless of course you counted the tears welling in Peter's eyes, much to Tony's alarm. "I'm sorry," Peter was groaning, eyes slamming shut against the tears, head shaking slightly. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I'm going to die, _ fuck--" _

"Hey, listen to me, you're not going to die," Tony said, not daring to stop the motion of his hips. Not when time was of the essence. Any second now it was going to work, if he could just get Peter to calm down and relax into the sensation. "Just take a deep breath and let me help you feel good, Peter. See? Nice and slow and easy, nothing to stress about."

But that just brought another sob bursting from Peter's lips. "What if I can't-- what if I can't get off? What if I can't do it and everything gets all messed up and something horrible happens to me? I feel like I'm on fire, Mr. Stark, oh god."

“Tell me what you need, Peter,” Tony said firmly, running a soothing palm up and down Peter’s thigh. “I’ve got you, I promise you’re going to be okay. Just tell me what you need so I can give it to you. What is it, sweetheart? What do you need to feel good?”

Peter was outright sobbing now, one arm thrown over his face to hide himself from Tony's gaze. "Make me hurt," he gasped at last, barely audible through his tears. "Please, Mr. Stark, I need you to make me hurt, _ fuck." _

Tony froze. He didn't mean to do it, especially not when his sudden lack of movement made Peter only cry harder. "You-- you want me to _ what?" _

"I'm so sorry," Peter babbled, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I know it's fucked up but it only feels good when it hurts. You're being so nice to me and trying so hard to make it good and I'm fucking it all up. I don't know why I'm so broken, god, I just--"

"Hey, stop that," Tony said, his voice coming back to him at last, Peter's distress breaking through the haze of horror his words had brought down on Tony. "You're not broken, nothing is wrong with you. Everyone likes what they like. And you like... to hurt?"

The idea was like a knife to Tony's heart, since every instinct he'd ever had was saying that he should be doing everything in his power to _ prevent _ harm to Peter, not cause it. He kept that emotion locked down deep with all the other unspeakable things he was feeling today. Instead he watched impassively as Peter nodded beneath the elbow he was still using to hide behind. "The pain feels good," he hiccuped. "It makes everything feel so much... more. I don't know why."

"That's fine," Tony lied. "I can do that." Lie lie lie _ goddamn lie. _

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered again, and Tony had to fight the urge to kiss the tremble out of his lower lip.

"Just tell me if it's too much, okay?" Tony said shakily, closing his eyes and slamming his hips forward into Peter.

It felt fucking incredible, even at the same time that the force made Tony a little sick, and the moan Peter gave could have easily have been either praise or protest. So Tony did it again, then again, picking up a fast, harsh rhythm until Peter's cock started to thicken in Tony's hand and there was no denying it anymore. This was what Peter needed, these near-punishing thrusts, and Peter's hips started to shift around as he chased the sensation. 

Tony moved his hands to Peter's hips and dug his fingers in, gripping hard, knowing that bruises would bloom there later from the force. Peter only gasped and placed his hands on top of Tony's as if to keep them there. "Yes, please, Mr. Stark, just like that," he moaned, tears still damp on his cheeks as his head tossed back in pleasure.

Tony gave a little grunt of acknowledgement, not trusting himself to speak aloud lest he say something he'd regret. He did slide his hands off of Peter's hips, though, running them up that lean torso to see what other buttons he could find to push. Peter's nipples were hard and pink and all but begging to be touched. Normally Tony would lean in and taste them, swirl his tongue around the little nubs, blow air across them to watch goosebumps rise on the delicate skin.

But this is not the time for gentle teasing. That wasn't what Peter asked for. Instead, Tony took one of Peter's nipples in between two fingers and twisted it, quick and brutal, feeling a dark sort of satisfaction as the action made Peter's back jerk up into an arch as he gasped. Tony didn't wait for confirmation, just did it again, leaning forward to drape himself over Peter so that when the sharp sensation made Peter jump, Tony could _ feel _ his motion beneath him.

Peter's throat was right there, and Tony was beyond rational thought at this point as he sunk his teeth in. It wasn't a lovebite, not the gentle hickeys he'd daydreamed about leaving on Peter's porcelain skin. This was an assault on the delicate curve of Peter's neck, the promise of yet another bruise, and Peter was whimpering in Tony's ear. He reached up and slid his hand between Peter's head and the pillow beneath him to grab a handful of hair and yank, dragging Peter's head to the side so he could sink another bite into that skin.

He could feel Peter's futile attempts at rutting up into Tony's stomach, rendered useless by the way that Tony was still fucking into him hard and fast. He wasn't soft anymore by a longshot, Peter's cock now leaking a little at the tip as he writhed underneath Tony. "God, yes, please," Peter begged, breathless, and in one wild moment Tony understood the appeal. He could see how it could be beautiful, to hurt someone you loved in all the ways they craved, give them just enough pain to make it pleasure, and leave them at your mercy to play them like an instrument. He could see a world in which he did that for Peter, not only when Peter's life depended on it, but any time Peter would let him.

"How much do you need to hurt?" he found himself asking, raking his fingernails down Peter's sides with enough force to make the boy shiver. "Is this enough? Can you come like this, sweetheart?" Peter didn't answer right away, and Tony bit down on the meat of his shoulder to make him groan. "Gotta tell me what you need, kid, so I can give it to you."

"Need more," Peter said, eyes fluttering open to take in Tony's face, like he was still expecting to see Tony reel back in disgust any minute now. "I want-- hit me."

Tony didn't let himself think about it. He leaned back and snatched the pillow from beneath Peter's head to put it underneath his hips instead. The new angle exposed more of Peter's ass to him, enough that Tony could bring his hand down on the meaty place at the top of Peter's thigh with an almost horrifically loud crack.

Peter howled, fingers twisting into the cheap cotton sheets, shifting first away from the impact and then into it as pain became something better. Tony did it again without being asked, then again on the other side this time, rubbing his hand reverently over the skin that was already starting to welt up from the impacts. He took Peter's cock in hand once more, gripping it tighter than he himself would enjoy, stoking quickly until Peter shouted and dug his heels into the mattress trying to get more.

"I'm close," he blabbered, borderline incoherent, "I'm close I'm close, I'm so fucking close. God, please, Mr. Stark, I gotta come, _ please." _

"What do you need?" Tony asked pinching the soft skin of Peter's groin. "How do you need it? You need me to hit you some more, Petey?"

"My face, please, I'm sorry," Peter said desperately. "The face, fuck, I'm so close."

"Jesus fucking christ," Tony swore, then drew his hand back and smacked Peter across the face before he had time to consider whether that kind of mental image was going to keep him up at night for the rest of his life.

He didn't have much time to dwell on the sickening way Peter's head snapped to the side with the impact, though, because Peter was already sobbing out, "Thank you, so good, I can't, I can't, I don't know--"

And Tony had officially taken leave of his senses, because he just shushed away whatever Peter was trying to say and placed a hand on Peter's throat instead. "I've got you," he said soothingly, pressing up towards Peter's jaw with the curve between his thumb and forefinger until Peter's air choked off with a gurgle. "Let go for me, sweetheart, I've got you."

After that, it was just a few brutal thrusts and one tight stroke of Peter's cock before the boy was coming, arms and legs scrabbling for purchase on Tony's body, his come spurting warm and liquid across Tony's hand and his own fluttering stomach. Tony let up the pressure on Peter's airway, continuing to pump his hips into Peter as the boy gasped for air and writhed his way through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When Peter was still except for the heaving of his chest, Tony stopped his movements altogether and pulled out of Peter as gently as he could. It took a herculean amount of self-restraint. He wanted to keep going, to close his eyes and chase his release in the hot clutch of Peter's body, to spill inside of him and drip out of him and maybe, for just a fraction of a second, forget about what he'd done. It would feel incredible, and maybe it would dull the fire of self-hatred in his belly for just a minute or two.

But Tony didn't do that, because this wasn't about him. It was about Peter, who even as Tony rose from the bed and pulled his pants back on was already visibly cooling as the fever of wanting left him. Some life was coming back into his body, a little of that glaze leaving his eyes, and a few seconds later he pushed up onto his elbows to look at Tony with a frown.

"I'm sorry," Peter said quietly, which was exactly what Tony had been about to say. "I mean, _ thank you, _ but I'm sorry. I know that wasn't... what you wanted to do."

Tony opened and shut his mouth a few times. It hadn't been something he'd ever imagined doing, certainly, but he'd be a liar if he said it hadn't felt good. He'd still been inside of Peter, made him cry out in pleasure, watched him squirm and beg and _ come _ so beautifully just like Tony had always fantasized. It wasn't what Tony had _ wanted _ to do to him, maybe, but it wasn't anything Tony wouldn't do again over and over again as many times as Peter asked for it.

“Can I… help you with yours?” Peter asked tentatively, startling Tony out of his thoughts. He was gesturing to the place where Tony’s pants were barely zipped over his straining cock, as if Tony didn’t have that in the forefront of his mind already.

“You don’t have to do that,” Tony said at once, shaking his head. “This isn’t about me. We got you through this, you’re safe now, that’s all that matters.”

But Peter was rising from the bunk and coming to stand in front of Tony with wide, slightly sad eyes. “I want to, though. You helped me, and I wanna help you back. You deserve to feel good, too. Please?”

_ Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it-- _ “I’m… I don’t think that would be a great idea,” Tony hedged, taking a step back from Peter. “We’re, uh, not really into the same things.”

That made Peter flush with embarrassment, but he stepped forward into Tony’s space again before Tony could feel bad and apologize. “I know that,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t have to be… like it was for me, though. I can give you what you need.”

“How do you know what I need?” Tony retorted, to keep himself from saying how badly he wanted Peter to do just that.

Peter took a shaky breath and reached for the fly of Tony’s pants. Tony didn’t stop him. “You like me sweet,” Peter whispered, looking somehow more vulnerable in this moment than he had the entire time Tony was fucking him. He was reaching inside Tony’s clothes to start stroking him slow and firm. He pressed close, laying his head on Tony’s shoulder so that Tony could feel Peter’s lips moving faintly against his throat as he spoke. “You like me gentle. You want to make love to me, don’t you, Tony? You want to take care of me and make me yours. Isn’t that right? You just want me to fall apart for you, nice and easy, and moan your name--”

Tony came in Peter’s hand with a gasp, clutching Peter close wherever his sweaty palms could find purchase. His knees startled to buckle with the release, but Peter’s arms --so much stronger than he looked-- were there around Tony, holding him up until he got his self-control back.

Immediately, Tony stepped back from Peter and turned away to zip himself back into his pants once more. “Thanks,” he said lamely, “that was-- you didn’t have to do that.” _ I wish you wouldn’t have done that, because now I have to go to bed every night knowing what that would look like with you and knowing it could never be real. _

“Sure, no problem,” Peter said awkwardly from behind Tony. “Um, I know this is kind of a terrible time to bring this up, but… I’ve always sort of, been interested in you. And I don’t think it was entirely one-sided. Maybe we could do this again sometime? And like, not _ just _ this, obviously, like I want to, you know, go on dates with you and stuff, too--”

“I can’t have this conversation with you right now, Peter,” Tony said as he wheeled back around, hating himself for the way Peter flinched at the rebuke. Add it to the list of things Tony was going to hell for. “After what we just-- it’s a lot. I’ve got a lot to wrap my head around, okay? So I need to just… process that. For a while.”

“Right,” Peter mumbled to the floor. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

He looked like he felt like crying. _ Tony _felt like crying. He didn’t take it back. “Look, why don’t you go grab a shower? I’ll go let the team know that we’re… done. Then we all can go home and things can go back to normal. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure, we can do that.”

As Tony watched Peter gather his clothing and shuffle off to the shower with the slightest of limps, Tony wasn’t so sure that they _ could _ do that. Not that it mattered. There wasn’t any other choice. The world kept turning, life moved on, and Tony had no option but to let it.

He straightened his spine and headed for the exit. _ Showtime. _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm too soft for this so there's probably going to be a sequel in which Tony and Peter get their shit together because I'm incapable of doing unhappy endings l m a o
> 
> Hope you liked this episode of "Charlie rips her soul out for kicks" byeeeee
> 
> stfustucky | tumblr


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